Spitting on the Grave
by MuddyWolf
Summary: Toshiko Zenigata continues Koichi Zenigata's legacy, dutiful as always as a defender of justice. But when she arrests a burglar disguised as an old man, she finds out that her father is not who she thought he was. Sequel to Once A Thief.
1. Bingo Nite

Legal Stuff: Jigen and Lupin belong to Monkey Punch, and Toshiko belongs to whoever

came up with her.

A/N: Sequel to Once A Thief, set about five years after. This is not inspired by Star Wars, though I guess it will end up being along the same lines. OO

9/11/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

1: Bingo Nite

A pile of cigarettes smoldered in a cat's face. She blinked, yowled, stretched, coughed, and leaped into the shadows. In contrast to the purple night, the lights buzzed overhead. Three fat flies got themselves stuck in the fluorescent lamps and died there. Their carcasses served as warning to other winged creatures that didn't do well around electricity. Sweaty feet in shoes that were trying to keep dry and failed were stretched out from the uncomfortable chair and sat on the desk. But it wasn't a disaster area: papers stacked up in orderly rows, everything suggested perfect clarity in the one sitting--Javert in the twentieth century. Without the suicidal tendencies. Case files, warrants, records of arrest, reports, and the endless amount of bureaucratic paperwork neatly separated. Ramen cups filled the trash bin, but nothing was overflowing. Corner office, privacy, nice view of downtown--at least if you didn't bother to look in the alleys, or the park benches, under bridges, even in that bakery with the friendly old woman from Fukuoka prefecture--that's where they were, the dregs of society, the lowest of the low. Every time Zenigata looked out the window, there was the city alright--but another city overlapping it. Rapists, murderers, embezzlers, vagrants just waiting to cause trouble, hoodlums, delinquents, drunks, junkies--no, wait, that was the old name for them. Druggies, gang members, the mafia was still alive and well, though they were getting harder to make charges stick 'cause they were keeping up a legit front that was a bitch to crack--oh, yeah, and lets not forget, thieves.

Outside the air was heavy and a mosquito whined in the sky. Zenigata finished the report and checked the time. 2:45 AM. Her reflection in the sake--for some reason the box broke on her and she had to substitute it with a plastic cup--looked bright despite not having had sleep. She had almost gotten to the bottom of the case and until it was solved she wouldn't even think of resting. Not before she nabbed him. That notorious sex offender masquerading as a butcher! She had all the hard evidence she needed.

Zenigata clenched her fist. Soon the sick fuck would be at the mercy of justice. Zenigata nodded with the same surety and confidence of every one of her forebears--from Heiji Zenigata to her late father--

That bastard Arsene Lupin, the so-called master thief that her father had devoted his entire career to bagging--sacrificing her childhood, calling her up one day--"Toshiko, you got your period? Already?" Calling her again--"Toshiko, you're in the police academy?"--and there was no next time--because he had shot her father.

As his only descendant, she had a filial duty to investigate--both the crime and why Interpol was interested in keeping it so quiet. They leashed the media hounds and it didn't even get a column in the paper--in fact, the commissioner hardly acknowledged that it had happened. Zenigata Koichi had died in Paris, and his killer Arsene Lupin III dumped in the Seine at the Pont au Change.

She and her squad along with a task force of Parisian _officiers_ dragged the river for days under the watch of some pompous English detective--no body. They hunted for Lupin, but he and his bandits went under the radar and never resurfaced. Other cases came up and she never regained the trail. Not that it bothered her. She had a duty to avenge her father, but her commitment to justice was still stronger. No Zenigata, no smoking gun, no Lupin. That was the last thing that would happen. Another Zenigata obsessing day and night, breathing that goddamned name, letting it take over him like some kind of disease--hah, fat chance of that. She had other cases to crack.

She scraped her way up the ranks and was now an Inspector herself, having under her command her subordinate officers, the younger ones obedient, the older ones never bothering her to look her in the eye. Never had a woman over you before? Deal with it!

4:20. She was out the door and in her coat and out in the suffocating air. She kept it on nonetheless, maintaining that air of ambiguous authority. She got into her car--a beat-up government issue model--the ride blew--_must not be Japanese_. Still, it got her through the swarm of honking cars and towards her apartment in the center of the whirling metropolis. Dawn peered warily from behind the mountains. She lit up a smoke and bit her tongue--_pedestrians twelve o' clock_-!! She slammed on her brakes. Four old men and a woman plodded through the crosswalk. The bright WALK sign glared into her eyes. She nodded approvingly at the law-abiding old people--nowadays good luck finding someone who wasn't a jaywalker. Nowadays...she wasn't that old, was she? _Lets see...Twenty-seven. Yeah, not old at all._ Her eyes were a little bloodshot and the bags were down to her cheeks. _Huh, how about that._

The old man at the head, trembling with every unsolid push of his wavering cane, nudged the ninety-something behind him with a wiry elbow. The ninety-something stopped, looked dead at Zenigata with--smirking--eyes. Zenigata gave a grunt of surprise, and lurched her head out the window. The elderly group suddenly ambled with greater speed, and once on the sidewalk, went walking in the opposite direction. Zenigata followed them with a piercing, unrelenting gaze. The elderly group continued at their same sluggish pace, but she had a nose for it--they were apprehensive, and she smelled their caution--particularly the ninety-something's. They faked it good, but the way they moved, something about them smacked of healthy youths with trouble on their minds.

"I know that look--old people my ass--they've got to be delinquents," Zenigata muttered as she reeled back from the stoplight and pulled off a screechy three-point turn in pursuit of the group. The leader wasn't stupid and already knew the sharp-eyed cop had found them out. The five of them got the message and scattered, ditching their canes and walkers in the process, and took off running in five directions. "Heh, heh..think it's gonna be that easy?" Zenigata asked her quarry as she marked the phony ninety-something and barrelled after him. There's something about on foot, but car vs. running played out to its logical conclusion, and Zenigata reached a hand out the window and grabbed the "old man" by the collar. "Easy, old-timer. What're you doing out past curfew, huh?"

"Old man" feigned ignorance and opened his toothless mouth.

"I w--was j-just h-headed h-home, o-officer. L-late B-Bingo Nite a-at the 75 + c-club," he sputtered, pointing a quavering hand downtown to a rather unsavory district.

"The strip club?" Zenigata asked gruffly, her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised with skepticism. "Bingo night's at the strip club?"

"Uh--h-huh..." "old man" agreed. That was when Zenigata caught sight of "old man's" jacket pocket. "What d'we have here?" Zenigata exclaimed in mock surprise, pulling open the fake's threadbare jacket and fingering what definitely was an amethyst from one of Tokyo's high-end jewelry stores--she had seen the very same rock in the window a dozen times--at least until burglars emptied it out just last Saturday. She wasn't on the case--but she sure had heard about it: it was all over the papers, punks claiming they were "The Gang of Five That's Still Better Than the Other Gang Of Five"--damn gang wars--lousy bastards tear up the town, think they're goddamn immortal or something. Right now their joyride hadn't ended--hadn't been nailed yet--but it looks like that was about to end. "You're under arrest on suspicion of robbery."

The phony old man didn't resist or even so much as protest as she cuffed him, herded him into the back seat, and headed to the station.

To be continued...

A/N: Can you see where this is going? I'm predictable, so I hope so! : )


	2. A Naughty Apartment REMIX

Legal Stuff: Lupin, Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon (though I forgot to put Fujiko and

Goemon in the last legal stuff--oops.) belong to Monkey Punch.

A/N: I'm back, big as life and twice as ugly! That's from Spy Hard.

9/12/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

2: A Naughty Apartment REMIX

The gang had regrouped in one of their hideouts--no air, no windows, and that was definitely a rat receiving his Last Rites under a pile of smoke-coated newspapers--but their temporary headquarters was tight, nestled in the middle of a dangerous district that the cops only dared bust into only when they were armed as if to stop a riot in the capital. Lupin shed his barely-concealed veins and his stretched-out flabby skin to reveal his seemingly ageless physique. Jigen's beard morphed from white to black, and Goemon gained a good sixty years of his life, returning to--though one would wonder if he would admit it--the pinnacle of manly beauty. Fujiko youthened and thus added to the growing pile of fake skin, paper towels soaked with make-up remover, wigs, hair dye, contact lenses, and respectable clothes, donning wear that for four years they hadn't shone even on a moonless night.

"Well, guys, we still got it!" Lupin laughed maniacally in his unrefined way, emptying his discarded senior citizen's jacket onto the second-hand sofa, that screamed for more washing even though Jigen--(there was no way he was going to sleep on a mustard-scented sofa)--practically bleached it with toilet cleaner. Ammonia killed the sad rat in the corner and his spirit went wherever it was supposed to go. It still was orange-yellow from all the mustard stains--someone must have been eating hot dogs for a whole year straight on that poor couch, but at least it smelled like Jigen--and this morning he smelled like smoke and lilacs, though he hoped to Christ that no one would notice that he was smelling like the latter.

"Yeeeahhh, look at those babies! Man, whoever said that gold is light or whatever's pretty damn stupid 'cause these amethysts and emeralds and rubies and diamonds're frying my retinas!" Jigen pounded the table and downed a cup of coffee--cold because they were out long enough for it to lose its piping warmth, but hell, it was great coffee. Just as the last drop rolled down his throat he spied an angry monk yelling at him in French from outside. He shrugged off what were some real creepy incantations that the monk was chanting outside--probably was putting a curse on him-- but quickly forgot it as Fujiko's barely-concealed cleavage came irritatingly close to his face. "Hey, watch where you're pointing that, broad!" he growled, slamming down the foam cup and clenching his teeth.

"Hmph, just testing you, Jigen--if your good mood's just a fluke or something," Fujiko winked, deftly applying mascara in the cracked mirror. She glowed in the weak light in the corner, and Lupin drooled as he gazed upon the loveliness of the jewels and the just as lovely woman. The stones grew hot clasped in his hand as he grinned wildly.

"C'mon, guys, it's a time to celebrate, not fight! Heeehheeehehheeheeh!" It quickly dawned on him that the pile was significantly less than what they had swiped from the jewelers'. "Wait a minute..." He blinked, blinked again, and clamped his hands on the table. Goemon seemed to read him, and cracked his left eye open. He then walked around the pillar to meet Izanami. Or he would have, if he were a god. Besides, Izanami was no longer in Tokyo. He flicked his thumb up against the hilt of the sword and disengaged his weapon.

"Shall I go to retrieve the rest of our earnings?"

Lupin thought for a second and leaned across the table.

"Hold on a second, Goemon--if he got nabbed by who I think that is, then I think that they deserve a little heart-to-heart, and I don't have the heart to break it up--" He pressed his chest meaningfully with a hand and a gentlemanly air. "I mean, the same guy that her old man pursued with all the zeal of, you know, Humbert Humbert--I mean, I was like his friggin' Lolita and meanwhile daughter dearest gets left behind and daddy wasn't there--" Goemon twitched at that horrifying espionage comedy with that terrifying naked man. For some reason, it did not bother him that he traversed rivers and lakes nearly naked, but seeing other men naked and so brazenly unashamed of it, it incited the ascetic in him to anger, and besides--_If I ever meet Austin Powers in battle, then I will not be able to cut his clothes to fill him with shame. He would be a difficult adversary indeed._

Lupin went on, an elbow casually resting on the creaky chair back. "--adopted him! So If I showed up there now that'd just be too low even for me!"

"Humbert Humbert? Shit man, you're twisted," Jigen grumbled dismissvely. "And you--Lolita? I think I'm gonna go bleach my ears." It looked like Jigen was actually heading to the eastern corner where he kept an icon and the bleach, and where Goemon kept the standard of his clan, the Japanese flag, his pickled plums and radishes, plus a copy of "Easy Cooking"--the guy made it a point that whenever they were Japan, that his belongings always took up more space than those of Jigen-- but he decided against it and returned to Lupin's side. "So man, how long are we gonna wait for 'im to sort out his family issues?"

"I don't know about you, Jigen, but I'm in no rush--There's plenty of time to get it back! Wahahahaheehheeah!!" Lupin started to leer at Fujiko, and without warning leaped clear out of his clothes. Jigen retorted with an "argh" as Fujiko held off the pouncing monkey with a spiked paper tiger, and the drugged Lupin fell flat and naked on the floor, causing the dead rat to jump.

To be continued...

A/N: Articles abound! What will happen at the station?

"


	3. In Which Zenigata Finds Out That

Legal Stuff: Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her.

Archdeacon Frollo was in the previous chapter, and belongs to Victor Hugo.

Current chapter title is blatantly ripped off from 19th century style chapter titles.

I don't claim to know anything about the legal process. I write what I see in my head, and that's all.

9/12/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

3: In Which Zenigata Finds Out That Her Father Is Alive And Well

"Got a match for your suspect," announced Osaka Lunch--the round-eyed, round-faced, round-everythinged man insisted that everyone call him that, and would not answer to any other name. Since he did all the lab work and was good at what he did, no one save for the chief dared to call him anything else. "Took some digging, because the guy actually changed his fingerprints. Went through an awful lot of trouble to make himself a new man after his last arrest."

"So who is he?" Zenigata inquired sharply, smoking in irritation. Her prisoner had stuck to his bogus story and once she had unmasked him--which scared the hell out of her at first because he looked identical to her father--he withheld his name from her, until it was starting to get ridiculous and he claimed that he was Faye Valentine. The smartass dragged the interrogation on until well past 5, whereupon she processed him, sent the prints in, and wondered why the hell she didn't do that in the first place. The fact that she was a little drained didn't show up in her tone, crisp and alert as ever--excited, even, that maybe they'd get a clue as to who this clown was.

"His name is Eugene Ganimard--" Zenigata was off running towards the criminal records room, rushing out a hasty "thanks" as her medium frame thundered up the stairs.

"Ganimard, Ganimard..." Zenigata rummaged through the G section in the cabinet, the room deserted except for her. The other officers were just starting to get in, and the noise level outside rose slightly. But that was a background hum against her ears as she purposefully ran down the names. G..Ga..Gan..ha, gotcha!" She pulled out a fat file out of the cabinet and opened it up. "Okay, lets see what bad boy's done lately, huh?" She took a glance at the grainy black-and-white mug shot and tried to ignore how ridiculously the leering criminal resembled her father--sideburns, widows' peak, strong jaw that gave way to a prominent chin, slender, muscular, wide scrutinizing eyes, a snub nose, much like her own. "Convicted of grand larceny--267 counts? Ha, I knew it!" She made a fist. "Ha, I knew it! The eyes never lie, and even if they do, I'll find out!" She grinned predatorily and continued to scan her prisoner's rap sheet. Her man had been arrested in 87 countries--in most of the mug shots he was grinning or making the peace sign or otherwise being subversive. She growled at the particularly obnoxious one where he was holding a puppet of himself up to his face. "Thinks he's funny, huh?" She buried the turning of pages in incoherent grumbling--until something caught her eye. It was her prisoner in his most recent mugshot--dirty, haggard, and he hadn't shaved for months. He was in stripes instead of his own ensemble--a jacket and a wide tie clipped to his shirt, and from the look in his eyes she could tell that he had nothing left to lose. That had absolutely no effect on her--clearly her prisoner had preyed on society and had payed the price: Life in--she caught a glimpse of something, made a "Hnnnn?" noise, and stared at it again. "May 29, 1968, executed." Zenigata replaced Ganimard's records and made for chief's office at a sprint.

--

"Chief, I believe the records're wrong," Zenigata stated. The trophies and placards glowed none-too modestly on the walls and shelves. The fat leader of the Tokyo division of Interpol sat there, immobile. "I checked Eugene Ganimard's rap sheet. He was executed over thirty years ago. But the same Ganimard's is being held here, right now...!"

"What?! That's impossible, what you have is an imposter, there can't be an error in the records."

"But sir! The prints of the prisoner and Eugene Ganimard are identical! Osaka Lunch confirms it."

The commissioner was quiet for awhile, and Zenigata knew that she got him. No one questioned the word of Osaka Lunch. The chief's medicine lay un-consumed in the water. He was probably about to do just that when the Inspector came rushing in, always with something urgent. Spitting image of Zenigata Koichi. His brow wrinkled in derision. He had had faith in him...faith that the promise of stability, of a place in honest society--would reform him. So much for that. Ganimard had returned--most likely Lupin had too-- and he needed ammunition.

"You're absolutely right, Inspector. You've done a fine job of tracking him down, Zenigata."

"Thank you, sir!"

"Which is why I'm now reassigning you to his case, since it's now open."

"Orders received, sir--as soon as I close the Humbert Humbert the Second case I'll be right on it--"

"I'm afraid that's out of the question. You are to apprehend Eugene Ganimard...as well as any other associates he might have. I have a strong suspicion that he's in league with four other felons: Arsene Lupin the Third, Jigen Daisuke, Ishikawa Goemon, Mine Fujiko."

"But--" She looked out the door and back at the chief, saluted again, and regained her rigid countenance. She filed those names away in her head should the time come. Particularly Lupin's name. No way she could forget that--she saw her chance for vengeance--and her prisoner would be the ticket, if he was really working with the infamous Lupin gang. "Sir, Ganimard is being detained..."

"Are you questioning my orders, Inspector?"

"...No, sir. I will apprehend Ganimard and anyone else who's with him immediately!"

She left the office bewildered--_what the hell does the commissioner mean, 'Apprehend him?' I already stuffed his ass in the lockup! _

Still, something didn't sit right in her gut and she rushed down the stairs--elevator's too slow. She reached the cells. "Open 'er up," she told the turnkey, who unlocked the gate to the cells. Zenigata dashed in and found her instinct right on the mark as she saw Ganimard, now wearing a purple jacket and two other colors that should never stand side by side and with his leg halfway out the door. "Hah, trying to escape, huh, clown?" She bashed the door in and it slammed with a clang, once again locking the thief in. Ganimard grinned nastily from behind the bars.

"Ya got sharp instincts, hun."

"That's Inspector Zenigata to you!!"

Ganimard suddenly looked thoughtful, distant, and before Zenigata could make sense of it, he cracked a joke about her attire. "Nice to see you're wearin' the latest fashion--c'mon, Toshiko, that's somethin' that your old man would wear!"

Zenigata growled, lunged at the bars, and grasped them irately.

"I'm not going to just stand here and listen to a goddamn thief lecture me about my wardrobe! And how the hell do you know what my old man would wear?!" she exploded, her face reddening and her knuckles whitening from clenching the metal in a rage. "And how the _fuck _do you know my name?!"

"Toshiko, what've we said about swearin' too much, huh? It's not good for a lady."

"I'll swear as many fucking times as I want!"

"Toshiko..."

The snarky attitude had gone back under the surface--so, he did have a surface, and he wasn't all leer and jeer. But what had replaced it was infinitely more disturbing. Ganimard's voice was different now, scolding, firm, but almost..gentle...parental...The Inspector shoved that thought or its like violently from her mind and crushed it underfoot. "I told you once and I'm not telling you again, that's Inspector Zenigata to you, you lousy bastard!!"

"Heh..guess I can't change ya, you're grown up--guess I didn't realize it...sorry--Inspector--can't believe it, you must be the pride of the force! They better be treatin' you well, though--or else I'll come in and teach 'em a lesson." He winked. "Steal all their coffee or somethin'." Cheerfully, sadly, he started to whistle a song...it was about a turtle..._God, no, it can't be...dad used to sing that song to me when I was a kid...before he up and left...no, no...I don't believe it.._.

"Turnkey!! Hey, open this up!" she shouted, frantically, and the officer flew to the cell in an instant, sweating and jamming the key into the lock. She stormed into the cell and stared, her skin white with horror. "F..father?"

Ganimard stopped the song midway and winked at her.

She proceeded to grab him by the collar and--pretty strong herself--shake the crap out of him. "Alright, I want some answers and I want 'em now!!"

"Got it..just take it easy, alright?"

Zenigata released her grip and threw the thief..her father..back onto the bunk. "They told me that you were dead--Lupin killed you!!"

"So that's what they called it, huh?" Ganimard mused, scratching his smooth chin. "Was always wonderin' how they'd cover it up."

"Cover what up? What are you talking about..!?"

"They dismissed me five years ago, Toshi."

"Five years ago...that's when you died...but.." She started to pace in a frenzy, her fingers digging into the back of her head, looking far more captive than he was. She began to piece some of it together, and moments later she was once again composed. "And then presumably this Ganimard showed up. But according to his record, he's also dead. Long dead. So can you explain to me...why you have his fingerprints?" Despite her calm, a raggedness garbled her voice. It was thick with anger, confusion, doubt--on one hand, maybe he had borrowed his identity, for some crazy reason that she hoped would soon become clear...but on the other hand...she braced herself for the worst.

And it hit with full force, splintering any defense that she had built up beforehand.

"C'mon, Toshiko, use your brains. You're a good cop. As for why I'm dead in the record--that was the deal they threw me. If I made myself a new man, they wouldn't ice me."

Silence.

"...So they falsified the records so no one would question your new identity. No one..not even your own daughter." A shake in her voice. "Why? Why did you lie to me...that part of my childhood that you were there...a loving father that one day decides to split...that's life, it bites, I can deal with that. But before then it was just a lie, wasn't it? Then you were nothing but a felon, a convict--so you thought you could just start over, huh?"

He didn't say anything. " Once you commit a crime, you're marked for life, no matter how many times you change your name...I'll give you one thing, you're quite the actor, Pop," she sneered, her tone now venomous, "All that talk...justice...duty...it makes sense that the one who yells thief's the crook." She laughed hollowly. "Let me guess, Dad," she growled, "You played the straight arrow until you saw your chance, and you left the police high and dry and went right back to crime! That was it, wasn't it? That's the MO of a hardened criminal, and that's exactly what you are," she accused, glaring him in his eye, now more sober. Ganimard frowned and shook his head--smooth hair, slicked back, not regulation style as it used to be--not that that meant anything. That was all part of the plan.

"Nope, that's not how it went down, hu--Inspector." He corrected himself, fearing any familiarity at this point. "I broke the contract. Couldn't catch Lupin for more than two hours--chief took that as incompetence--he knew what I was, and he questioned my loyalty--little weasel was playin' on my doubts, too--maybe he wasn't so bad, I thought.But I kept at it, I chased him--felt like it was straight into hell--one day they figured I'd gone crook and they dismissed me. Ya see, part of the deal was, I keep workin' for them, they work for me--but once they stop workin' for me, deal's off. Zenigata's dead, Ganimard's back on the scene, and there's only one place he's goin' and it ain't the beach. They called it a murder and they implicated Lupin--in the end, I guess they weren't far off 'cause he took me in. For the first time in twenty years I was a fugitive again. Couldn't trust anyone...except the weasly bastard." He paused, and made a motion to grab Zenigata by the hand, but then drew it away. Things were awkward enough as it was. "You be careful, Toshi."

"Careful? For what?"

"You're a Ganimard--never can tell if they'll spring on ya one day."

Zenigata grabbed the thief by his yellow collar once again and yanked him up level with her mouth, filling with and violently spewing saliva. Her tone was low, dangerous.

"Lets get one thing straight, scumbag, you may have fathered me and that technically makes me your daughter. But that sure as hell doesn't make me a Ganimard. You're a thief, I'm a cop, I'm going home and hitting the sack, whenever your trial date is set, I'll be the one dragging your ass in front of a judge 'cause I've been assigned to your case--and you can bet your ass I'll find out who the others are before I'm through with you--and they're all going down with you. Clear, you shit?"

"Clear...Inspector," Ganimard answered, his eyes alight with laughter again, coolly reclining against the wall, legs crossed at an odd angle.

The freshly affirmed Zenigata stormed out as loudly of the cell as she had stormed in, her authoritative bark whisking the jailer back to the cell and unlocking it, then re-locking it once she was out. She took a last look at the prisoner, her knife-edged gaze full of derision and hate, before marching off down the corridor. Other people that she had arrested hissed and catcalled her as she shouted them down, more incensed than she usually was. Ganimard slipped out a lockpick from behind his collar and showed himself the door. "That's my girl...never backs down. She'd live and die for justice..." His brow furrowed as he strolled down the corridor, slipping past the guard, relieving him of his keys, and exited the compound. "So, they assigned Toshiko to us, huh? Can't be good. They're already settin' her up for a fall. Lousy bastards..." A vein tensed and relaxed. The sunny air was muggy but liberating. Heavy, sticky, but free. It was now mid-morning, and he caught sight of Toshiko's back, trudging to her car, that looked as old and tired as she did. He wanted to say something to her, to go pick her up and swing her around like he used to when she was very little...a lifetime ago. He knew her...but she no longer knew him. She only had one thing to say to him, and it wasn't "I love you, Dad".

But still, she was his daughter.

She looked sad...so what else could he do but try to cheer her up?

"Hey, Inspector Zenigata!" yelled Ganimard from just outside the station. The latter stopped in mid-trudge and growled a maddeningly French name in her most volcanic Japanese,

"GA-NI-MARD!!"

The hunt was on.

To be continued...

A/N: It's Ganimard vs. Zenigata in the next chapter! Unfortunately, Goemon also shows up to reclaim the dropped amethysts...

Will an enraged Zenigata run into Goemon? Probably. XD


	4. Cops And Ronin

Legal Stuff: Goemon--hm, just calling him Ishikawa doesn't sound right...anyway, he belongs to Monkey Punch,

and so does Jigen. Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her. In this fic, Goemon is ronin. I would think that

he's ronin in the series, too, because his master died and he didn't have a new one. Well, anyway...

9/12/08

Sptting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

4: Cops And Ronin

Zenigata tore off in pursuit of the purple jacket--who laughed--irreverent, gleeful--and it pissed her off.

"Get back here!!"

_I had him...how the hell did he get out so fast? Hmph. Doesn't matter. He's an old man_

_My old man. _

Zenigata sputtered and shook her head free of that thought. No, she had disowned him back there. He was just another crook to her, nothing else. She reached for her radio in mid-run, about to call backup. _What the hell am I doing? He's not young anymore. Won't be hard to take him down._ Zenigata lunged and grabbed the ghost of the purple jacket in her fist. She looked ahead to see him still running ahead of her, his mouth alight with a half-smug, half-sad smile.

"You sure ya wanna do this, Toshi? Not like I'm gonna go easy on ya--you are tryin' to toss me in, after all!"

Maybe it was because he wasn't wearing a trenchcoat, but her prey was incredibly agile--he scaled a fence and was over it, the gate clattering as it vibrated from the force as he kicked off the top and landed in the scrapyard on the other side. Zenigata hurtled the obstacle with matched agility, but damnit, mountains of garbage dominated her view. Trash, trash, trash, guard dog--there you are-- target acquired. Ganimard darted to the barely visible slot in the fence--like a spaniel, he scrambled under the fence and squeezed out on the other side, now brown with dirt. Blindly Zenigata followed, compact enough to emerge out from under the fence with a few scrapes. With a growl she lunged into Tokyo's worst district, smashing through the thugs that had been dying to meet her until she body-slammed them into a pile of trash cans. She'd deal with 'em later--but now, her orders were to re-arrest Ganimard. The cackling sluts, the bullet holes in the wall, the leering hooligans--all of them blurred into one undifferentiated mass as she zeroed in on the cocky fugitive.

Ganimard made a leap of about two floors which barely hindered him as he disappeared into a twisted network of alleys, only just visible from the roof. "Damn..it...!" She followed suit and plunged into the depths, where the sun's light found itself blocked by inert criss-crossing beams--propped up against it, a dormant crane. And next to it, a tower of debris reached upwards like a standing snake. She had just penetrated the shadows when she felt a wind that came out of nowhere, coolling the air at least ten degrees. She glared at the source, hearing the barely audible sound of steps. "Alright you, get out here!" she barked, her teeth clenched into a snarl as she gripped her Colt .45. She pulled the hammer back and aimed at the shadows. From out of them glided the samurai, phantomlike.

"I am afraid that I cannot let you go further."

"Move it, or I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice!"

"Will you, now?" the samurai asked, fixing a deviant eye on the woman--for no other reason to size her up as an opponent. The uncouth female who stomped along with her feet outwards and with a broken voice was hardly his type. A deadly aura radiated from her, and he concluded that she was a capable opponent, though of course, she could not hope to best him. Still, he was curious to see her warrior's spirit. Without another word he drew his sword and charged with a manly shout rising from the depths of his body. Years of unceasing training made his body as swift as the wind, deadly as a starved beast, so that he and the elements no longer recognized a difference between them--he was one with--not only the refined cherry trees in their ordered rows, but the savage waterfall, the perilous lightning, the scorching volcano. He rushed at her, but before he could deliver a non-lethal blow with his second favorite end of the sword, Zenigata whipped her handcuffs from inside her trenchcoat. They clattered against the sword and Goemon closed in with blinding speed. Matching the enemy Zenigata aimed low-- and in an instant the great Goemon tripped on his now cuffed ankles and fell headlong on the glass-sprinkled pavement.

"Get with the program, damn kabuki mono!" Zenigata spat.

Goemon, rising up from the ground in momentary shock and only slightly cut, smiled at Zenigata's astuteness. Through all of their boorishness, they were of the decent sort and he would never dare to cut the clothes of those who were not deserving of such humiliation. Indeed, she even was worthy enough to learn his name as fitting for opponents of equal valor. "I, Ishikawa Goemon, will never get with the program." With one fluid movement he slashed apart the cuffs, incensing her further. She pounced again with all the tenacity of a leashed dog and she charged at him, bull-like. He swiftly shifted to the side, leaving her to overshoot and nearly hit the wall. He retreated with an eagle-like leap, accompanied by a flurry of cherry blossoms. The murky alley absorbed his body framed with the anachronistic warrior's garb and vanished, leaving Zenigata snorting and short one pair of handcuffs. Not that it mattered--she was hauling about thirty at any given moment. "Ishikawa Goemon, huh? You're under arrest!!" Zenigata flew after the samurai--now pegged as one of the fugitives that the commissioner had ordered to capture, and prepared to empty her clip when her quarry came in sight. But the samurai was gone. At the end of a dead-end lane, bright green with spray paint and yellow, moldy flyers, she found her gun out of her hand and against the wall with a single heavy shot. A snarky character that looked like he jumped right out of a forties gangster flick ambled casually out into view.

"How're you doin', Inspector?"

To be continued...

A/N: That wasn't much of a showdown, was it? OO Next chapter it's Jigen vs. Zenigata.


	5. Dead End Waltz

Legal Stuff: Jigen belongs to Monkey Punch. Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her.

Kabuki mono as I understand it was a term for someone who was deviant. I think. OO They were associated

with kabuki because it used to be considered disreputable.

9/13/08

Spitting on the Grave

5: Dead End Waltz

At least, the snarky character would have sauntered into view if that segment of the alley didn't dip even further into the shadows and wasn't pitch black. She could smell the powder, heard the shot. He wasn't ten meters away from her. Another shot, meant to warn, flew past her ear. Didn't even graze her, but she knew that he had missed on purpose.

_What kind of pro're we dealing with? He can shoot in the fucking dark!_

Zenigata followed the steps with the Colt's muzzle. They stopped. The gunman waited in a corner, and his voice bounced across the walls in a growling low tenor.

"Just 'cause you're a chick doesn't mean I'm 'gonna handle you with kid gloves. In fact..." Zenigata heard an obstinate grunt. "I'm gonna waste you all the more 'cause the only good woman's a dead one." Nonetheless, the cantankerous middle-aged chauvinist pig didn't shoot--maybe because she hadn't tried to kill him--it's not like he was above that--he had killed plenty before, women, men, it didn't matter. But ever since he joined up with Lupin, Jigen reserved his lethal aim for the guys and gals that were out for his blood, or went out of their way to piss him off--the Inspector was neither, and the gunman, instead of shooting Zenigata, went on griping in his cynical, world-weary tone. "Too many damn broads in the world. What the hell're you doing here, anyway? I'm giving you one warning, toots. You're in way over your head--why don't you get on home, this ain't no playgr--" A crack, skin impacting with cartilage, the smell of blood in the air. "..." The chatty obstacle between Ishikawa Goemon and Eugene Ganimard gave off an audible whimper and from the sound of it, grabbed whatever she had hit with both hands. "Okay, that's it, you goddamn bitch. No one friggin' touches my nose and lives to talk about it, you hear?!" A click--he had jammed his gun back into his belt. Zenigata's eyes darted. _What now, what now--_--She felt her cheek cave in as the hood's knuckles hit her in the face.

"Ha, not so pro anymore now that I found your weakness--you're just a two-bit street punk!" she yelled, the swelling blurring her words together.

"Call me a street punk, will ya?!"

At that and his throbbing nose the gunman grew enraged and came at her berserk. He twisted her arm behind her back--she threw him into the wall. A painful-sounding "bomp" as he landed side-first against the brick. He slumped to the ground but rolled over and dragged her down with him. Now in their element they were rabid. Words quickly evaporated into grunts and growls as they dog-fought--she bit his hand, he punched her in her solar plexus, she kneed him in the jewels, he grabbed her by a leg and yanked it in a direction it shouldn't go, she leg-sweeped him and he fell over on his face. She got on top of him and plowed his head into the ground, he flipped over and tossed her off, and then lunged and they went at it again, ripping each other apart until the heavy air was heavier with blood and spit.

A hard-breathing Zenigata sat on top of the dirty, bloody gunman, her own Colt to his abused head and her handcuffs out. He lay there growling, surprised, beat, but a smile came to his swollen, bloody lip and he grinned.

"Hey, you're not bad."

"...Hmph." Zenigata upturned her head in the proud, indifferent manner of her bloodline and clapped the cuff on one wrist.

"Yep, there's not a whole lot of anyone that can take on me, Daisuke Jigen, and come out on top. You're truly your father's daughter."

Jigen played his last Ace, hoping the mention of her father would throw her off, or at least get her back into her Chase mode by revealing his own name. Luckily, it did both. Spit landed on his crumpled hat as she foamed, roared, and lunged up, her anger overpowering the fact that Jigen had knocked half the stuffing out of her and she should probably go home and get some rest. Of course, this was Zenigata that we're talking about. But that she had gotten to her feet--in her fury she forgot that Jigen was still on the ground and that gave him enough leeway to crawl out from under her and out of the dead end. Zenigata's eyes widened, she made a grating sound as she realized that he had tricked her and she took off after the invisible gunman again, shaking free of the blurriness in her head and the soreness in her body. She soon became numb to it, filled with the all-consuming rush of obsesssion. _Heh, heh...now I've got the upper hand. I know what they sound like, what two of 'em look like. Jigen's wearing a beard and he's got a big nose. Hair long. Close to six feet in height._ She ignored the throbbing in multiple places on her neck. _Mean bite. _Zenigata tracked the blood scent through the labyrinth, running, running, her tenacity driving her onward through the murky sea, onward to the enemy's stronghold.

To be continued...

A/N: Silly bleeding Jigen led Zenigata right to them! Next chapter: The master thief appears!


	6. In the King's Court

Legal Stuff: Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her. Lupin belongs to Monkey Punch.

The previous chapter was inspired by that one episode where Lupin throws a rock and it hits Jigen in

the nose, and he chases Lupin while shooting at him. Thanks, GirlWithNoLife, for the review.

I hope you liked the fight scene.

9/14/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

6: In the King's Court

The red scent plunged into the sewer. It mixed with a host of other smells...rat fur, shit, piss, broken glass, toilet paper, bats, goldfish--This time she could see it, there was somehow more visibility down here than up there. The collective stench didn't mask the blood, though. Or the distinctive smoky odor-- but his cigs gave off a different smell. _Hmph, looks like he's a high-flyer. Could've fooled me. Whatever brand he's smoking isn't cheap. Hmph, it won't matter once I've got him. _Zenigata mounted the ladder, slick with mold and grime--the blood was getting thinner. Must've been drying up. But there was only way he could've come out. The heavy lid quaked and fought with her as she pushed against it with her muscular arms. It finally gave way and she emerged into the air. The sun didn't reach here either--the accumulated trash formed a kind of roof that blocked out any light. A former group of streetlamps had been uprooted from the main city--no doubt illicitly, and provided a decent amount of light here. But the stolen streetlamps could wait. No doubt that the criminals counted these as part of their property. As if they hadn't crossed the line enough. Her breathing came out ragged from the fight, that didn't help her wounds any. But like that would stop her.

"There's nowhere to run! I know you're here, there's only one way out of the sewer!"

No one answered. Zenigata fired off a warning shot that bounced off of the ground and stopped at the wall. The falling-apart door swung half open and then jammed. Zenigata heard some punk with the voice of a teenager kicking the door, slamming it, opening it again, and finally coming out. Whatever grand entrance he was attempting to make backfired and it sure as hell didn't impress the Inspector, grand or not. "You must be the boss."

"Well, unofficially anyway. We're kind of all on the same level, just doing what we do best like any professional!" His answer was grating, squeaky, like a monkey, or a weasel--something that was always up to no good, just waiting to make trouble. As she sized him up she etched the image of the man into her brain, the man that had held the attention of police, military wings, newsreels, the public--for more than twenty years. What kind of criminal personality could weave that kind of spell, make crime a circus, and make clowns of the police? Well, it didn't really matter. His answer put it beyond a doubt that this was her man.

"I'm here to close down your circus, Lupin the Third!"

Lupin closed the door with a foot, his hands resting easy in his pants pockets, his head angled to one side, the very picture of vice and corruption.

"Heehheehheeehheeeh!"

_Rggghhh, that laugh!! "_Funny, Inspector, I actually have a revival in the works and plenty of revenue to fund it!"

"Revenue?! You're talking about the jewelry place, right?" she concluded in her usual abrupt way. Her surprise turned just as quickly to confidence. She chuckled and leveled a self-assured grin at the criminal. From what Ganimard had voluntarily coughed up back at the station, she already knew the fugitive was in with Lupin, but she couldn't absolutely prove that Lupin and his three other accomplices were behind the heist--she had only caught Ganimard, after all._ Lets see if this'll make him talk. _"About 5000's been confiscated and it's back in legitimate hands!!"

"Heeh, if you can call Ganimard's hands legit! He met up with my other associates and I'd say they're halfway across Russia right now!"

"Wh--what?? No, it can't be!! The stolen property was locked up tight!" The brim of her hat frowned and drooped like sad dog's ears and she threw a fist in front of her at level with her eyes and pointed with absolute surety at the falling-apart hideout. "Hah, I know what your game is--you're sticking your accomplices with the stolen goods so I'll go after 'em and you can all escape with the jewels that in all likelihood you must've hid here, along with your bottom-feeders! " She marched towards the door and kicked it open--she didn't need to blow the lock apart because the door was on its last legs and swung inward. It hit the opposite wall and she charged into the window-less shack. She tore the place apart, searched it from top to bottom, trashed it with the brutal thoroughness of a government official. She cut open the mattresses with a small knife that she inexplicably kept on her and scattered the stuffing. She pried the nails from the floorboards with some makeshift device, turned the drawers inside out, sliced open the Japanese flag with surprisingly little reserve and smashed the icons with still less apprehension. She flipped the Easy Cooking book open and threw it aside when she determined the pages were clean. Nothing and no one was here. "What gives, you bastard?! There was one-way out of the sewer--how the fuck did your accomplices get away?! And where are the rocks?!"

Zenigata's eyes flashed in her characteristic fury, her amazement--not at all in a good way--at their untimely disappearing act. But Lupin detected something else burning in her look. A desire...that made itself all the more apparent the moment that Lupin mentioned the jewels. It was a familiar look--Fujiko's at the mention of diamonds, Ganimard's--even before when he was still slaving for the system and whenever he was ordered to guard a particular prize that he had marked for his collection, he was always next to it--the cops did that on purpose--to make the former Inspector protect from him what the guy wanted to steal himself--and of course his, at anything remotely shiny and near-impossible for ordinary thieves to obtain. And now Zenigata's eyes burned with the same manic desire. Lupin lit up casually, headed into the thoroughly-wrecked hideout, and grinned a stream of smoke.

"I already told you, they're halfway across Russia by now! He inhaled on the cig and blew out another stream of smoky air, his grin growing all the wider as Zenigata reddened to the hue of a very pissed-off strawberry. The cigarette brand was identical to the gunman's. "As for how Jigen gave you the slip--welll--" He gave off that irritating laugh again and he held up an open packet of blood with his little finger outwards. "Y'see, Inspector, we all have different blood types and all that but it all runs red and smells exactly the same." He blinked in finality, still grinning. "You, my friend, figured out that the sewer leads directly to our hideout. But the alleys are like a regular lab rat's maze except with lots of ways the rats can get out!" Lupin winked cheekily.

"Rrrghh...!! I can't believe it!! You damn bastard!!" She mashed up her hat with her hands and lunged, Lupin dodged it with a cheerful bounce. "Now I understand why he hunted you for so long--you're annoying as all fuck!" She charged again, missing her target by a long shot. Her head shot up. He held onto a rung on the ceiling. "Not that I'm ever 'gonna forgive him," she muttered under her breath as she climbed the overturned mustard couch and sprang at her quarry's legs. Again, without any apparent effort and with the dexterity of a cat he detached himself from the ceiling and rolled out the broken door, Zenigata momentarily clapping her hand above her eyes and dutifully searching for that elusive red jacket.

"Forgive him for what, exactly?" Lupin queried intrusively--apparently she didn't say it as under her breath as she intended to--

"That's none of your damn business!" She yelled defensively as she leaped out the door, landing squarely on Lupin's foot. His face and his hands contorted in a sharp pain, and for the moment he was fastened to the ground. For what seemed like the hundredth time today she pulled out her cuffs and leered at her prey. Lupin, seemingly recovered from what was a sharp tingling in his foot, went right on miming a smile button. "You're finished, Lupin the Third."

"Yeah, looks like you got me. Alright, Inspector, I'll come quietly," Lupin affirmed in resignation. He forced sweat down his brow, and took his inflection downward, and took on the semblance of a captive. Zenigata proceeded to cuff him--but defying convention she cuffed one hand to one foot and the other hand to the other foot on opposite sides, thus twisting him to the point that there was no possible way he could flee by running, and his neck just for good measure. She had heard the horror stories...they said the average time that Lupin the Third remained in handcuffs was about four seconds. Now in her career, she found that hard to believe, and her usual source--well, she wouldn't dare to call Ganimard a reputable witness, for the reason you could never trust thieves unless you forced them to cooperate under duress. But still, it didn't hurt to take precaution. No one would call this excessive use of force. Lupin sat there on the ground, shaped like a red pretzel. "Congratulations, you got me! I hope they give you a big, fat Christmas bonus! Heehheeh! And if they don't, here's a little something to supplement your salary!" Zenigata ignored him as she grasped his arm roughly, and forced him to stand--as much as he could balance on two feet cuffed in the unconventional way that he was.

"Get up!" she ordered. Her prisoner having complied, he inched his jacket farther up his shoulders, reached his head into the inside of his jacket, and retrieved something that shimmered from inside.

"Here you go!" Lupin made a ring with his mouth and plopped it into the air where it rolled a little on the ground before it stopped right in front of her. Zenigata recognized the amethyst immediately. it glittered in its mysterious multi-patterened way in the light of the former streetlamp--Her heart beat faster--for whatever reason, she was getting excited--but wait--what the hell? He...he was trying to bribe her!!

"If you think that you can buy off an honest cop--"

She stopped in mid-sentence, her irateness fading into shock--the three pairs of cuffs lay inert on the ground--no blood on them--clearly the thief had slipped out while she wasstaringatthefuckingamethyst. Total elapsed time: four seconds.

_So he was telling the truth...this Lupin bastard's in a whole other league. I gotta admit, though, he's pretty damn good--_

_..._

_What's wrong with me?_

_He knew it...he knew that I'd..._

_No, I want to find the stones so I can return them to their rightful owners!_

_Like any honest cop!_

_Right, that's what I was doing! Hahaaaa...nothing else--Lupin's got it all wrong! No--no, he wanted to distract me--he knew that he'd throw me off by showing the amethyst--_

_Yep, it must be worth a lot._

_On the black market it'd go for..._

_Wh...what the fuck?!_

_I'm Inspector Zenigata, damnit! And _"I'm taking this rock back to headquarters!! From there I'll assemble a task force and locate and apprehend Lupin and his gang!" She jumped onto a loose car part and raised a fist towards the blocked sun--or maybe moon, who knows what time of day or night it was because she'd been down there for so damn long. She looked up with bright eyes and a clear heart, confident in that simple, transparent image of herself that bore no secrets, had nothing to hide. "Yep, that's what I'm going to do--it's my duty as a law-abiding law enforcement officer and the great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter of Heiji Zenigata!!"

She slipped the amethyst in her pocket, trudged resolutely in the direction of downtown, and the stone warmed her fingers. As she trekked through the sewer, back through the alley, the junkyard, and out of the seedy district, the amethyst in her pocket tormented her, and she battled her dormant criminal's instinct as it began to stir deep within her like a monster waking from a long and imposed sleep.

To be continued...

A/N: This chapter marks the halfway point! The conflict starts in Zenigata! Will she be able to resist?


	7. Ride on the Baggage Claim

Legal Stuff: Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her. Lupin and etc.

belong to Monkey Punch. The chapter title refers to how the same luggage

goes around again and again. Previous chapter title was an allusion to the Court

of Miracles in Notre Dame de Paris. Lupin is like Clopin.

9/14/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

7: Ride on the Baggage Claim

We got a bank robbery in progress on 54th and Cherry, all units respond. Perpetrators are Lupin the Third and...Today, The mayor Ogey was victimized by who police identify as Lupin the Third, who stole the Golden Toilet...RARE UKIYO-E STOLEN, LUPIN III RETURNS...11200000 EURO REWARD FOR THE RETURN OF PURPLE OCTOPUS..."St. Catherine's will not tolerate an assault on the dignity and chastity of its inmates and seeks the immediate return of twenty-nine undergarments to the convent!!" Protect yourself from LUPIN THE THIRD, keep your belongings with you at all times...WANTED...If you have any information on the whereabouts of this man, notify police immedi...LUPIN...Sexy cat burglar makes a comeback...LUPIN...A SECOND GOLDEN AGE OF THIEVERY?...LUPIN..."Please, please, I beg of you, don't let that miserable thief near my collection of crystal asscheeks!!" "Play that number again! We want Love Squal, goddamn it!!" "France fears the return of its most feared menace since Phantoma: GANIMARD...Over 1,000,000,000 yen lost, profits down, I lost everything, BARGAIN BLOWOUT ON FIREARMS! (You'll pay for this, Lupin the Third!) Forty years and still kicking ass and taking names! How does he do it? Close-up look at world's most celebrated criminal! How I Didn't Do It: Five-Hundred Detectives' Stories About Their Failure to Capture Lupin the Third, HOT RUMOR: Elvis says that Lupin the Third will start a World Empire!!

"Inspector Zenigata!!"

"Yes, sir!"

"You have your orders."

About to grab him. Inhumanly fast, she's always only a step behind--maybe one more burst of air will get her over the wall--he's dancing just beyond her reach--him and his near mirror-image, red and purple like that impossibly giant monster-thing that she once saw investigating the ruins of an old mansion which belonged to a private electric company that once possessed massive assets. The big ugly-as-hell thing jumped out from a safe not even as tall as her and she ran like hell out of that place first chance she got. And Lupin and Ganimard weren't far off from that kind of menace. The rate at which they predated on society was mind-boggling..they amassed meteoric profit at the expense of legitimate--and--as she would never admit that their intentions were good, unintentionally, illegitimate businesses.

"Today's the day, Lupin!"

Lupin and his parasites never said it outright, but they were sending her a message. It happened something like this. The police allied with a business that played all the legal channels, but just underneath, corruption ran rampant, the dirtiest money flowed through dirty dealings and marked a trail of blood, betrayal, backstabbing, unexplained disappearances. Lupin and his gang broke the public facade and exposed the snakes in the grass. Then they fled just in time to evade capture and to let Zenigata see what kind of people it was that she was working for. If she was serving as part of a dignitary's escort, it was almost guaranteed that the dignitary was racist against the Japanese, if not all non-whites, if she had caught one of them and intended to transport them back to Paris or Tokyo, she had to make do with a public train--something that wasn't actually sanctioned, not to mention damn uncomfortable (Always non-smoking trains!) If she got in a dispute with the local political authorities, Interpol didn't bother to back her up. Got stuck in a war zone? Deal with it. Got mistaken for an illegal immigrant? Your problem. Got mistaken for Lupin? Not much difference between you, is there? Don't know what t_hat_ was supposed to mean. It wasn't long before even the younger officers refused to take her seriously, and the older ones or the ones who had even heard the slightest mention of Ganimard were impatient for something to happen. Didn't know what exactly--she found their expressions unreadable, it was routine as usual. But something brewed under her radar.

As she threw herself with increasing intensity into the Lupin case, as she pursued his gang for hours on end, days without sleep, nights without rest, and with the coming dawn the only anticipation of the upcoming day registering in her brain as ARREST LUPIN, she deteriorated. The Inspector was capable, dependable, clever, innovative. But lately she resembled more and more a machine. A fleshy machine that devoured ramen or non-descript crunchy white things, guzzled beer, but with no more relish--everything was reduced...to FIND LUPIN. Like a memory wipe, it erased everything. Lupin became the only objective--everyone else surrounding him became his mere underlings. Lupin was the prize pig. No, more than that. Lupin became the reason that she existed. And no time for self-reflection anymore--It hardly mattered that_ she had become her father_, mired in mountains of trash and dirty dishes, exchanging a prime rib for a slice of that what sometimes seemed like an incorporeal being--that made fun of her just behind some screen that separated the earthly from the demonic. Not that she believed that crap. Her mind had become extraordinarily simple--and it was only on the clearest of days when she constructed an ingenious trap or two--but such days were rare. Mostly she went off blindly, no longer knowing for what reason she chased this man through hell.

A/N: Next chapter: Two years later, everything starts falling apart.


	8. Zenigata March

Legal Stuff: Toshiko, belongs to whoever came up with her.

9/14/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

8: Zenigata March!

_Two years later..._

A snazzy car ripped around the corner through a mud pile. The wheels picked up the mud and flung it in the direction of Zenigata, who was trudging homeward after another failed attempt to capture her quarry--once again he had evaded her and vanished beyond her reach. It splattered on her trenchcoat, but she hardly noticed it. Her sunken eyes remained fixed with crazed vigilance at some invisible point in the distance, on which the thief might materialize at any moment. The red light stopped the traffic and she crossed the street. _Red stoplight...that red jacket...Lupin...where are you?_

_Whereareyou? _

A total mess didn't begin to describe what she looked like. Aside from the leaves, dirt, and whole branch stuck on her hat that she hadn't bothered to sweep off, tufts of hair escaped the discipline that had formerly guided every aspect of her life. The mud caked and dried on Zengiata's coat, but not before it had smeared on her pants that she had just brought back from the cleaners. The tag was still on it. Shirt unbuttoned, collar rumpled. An unsightly hole in her hat. Once again that passed by her notice. The clean-cut image that she projected had crumbled, and though she didn't give much of a damn as to what civilians thought of her, that didn't stop them from thinking what they wanted.

"Who's that?"

"That's Inspector Zenigata."

"Huh? I thought he croaked."

"No, that's his daughter. Complete nutcase."

Her eye burned from underneath her beat-up hat and she grabbed the speaker by the tie--silk-- and yanked him forward with both hands. The man, knocked speechless and gasping from the impact of his soft forehead against her hard one, trembled under her gaze which smoldered with the intensity of raw obsession.

"Huh?! Who're you calling nuts, you son of a bitch?! Are you working with Lupin?! Huh?! Are you?! Answer me!!" she commanded, practically melting the object of her interrogation.

"I--I d--don't--kn-know--I-I'm--n--not--with--L-Lupin!"

"Then you're wasting my time!!" Momentarily she came to her senses and let go of the terrified civillian. He and his friend quivered frantically, bathed with sweat, and didn't dare say anything until the one-woman tornado passed safely out of range. But once she was gone the pair felt absolutely justified with grinding the shreds of her honor underfoot--inevitably behind her back.

"See what I mean?" The guy that had been grabbed straightened his tie and traced a circle with his forefinger next to his ear.

"Christ, why don't they check her into a psycho ward?"

"Hope they sack her."

--

Zenigata flicked on the light in her--apartment and waded in the manner of a zombie through the four inches of accumulated trash that had staged a hostile takeover of what could loosely be called living space and had expanded its territory from the kitchen to the hallowed space in her apartment that she had reserved for Zenigata Heiji's jutte. A clatter and roll of bottles, a chorus of crushed ramen cups, dirty dishes that hadn't seen soap in two years, bugs paraded freely across the plates, a giant cloud of flies controlled the elevated space above. She swatted one half-heartedly and collapsed on her unmade bed with all of her clothes, and she tumbled into a turbulent sleep dominated exclusively by the whooping thief and the humiliation of getting chewed out again and again by the chief, by all of the public property disasters related to Lupin blamed on her, the constant patronizing "We're bending the rules for you", "We're doing more than we have to to keep you on the force"--but no, no one could question her loyalty to Interpol. She had made sure of that. She never questioned an order, she carried out directives to the letter. The chief was justified, he had the final say, and he could never be wrong, _because he works on the right side of the law. _

_But they need me._

_I'm the only one who can catch Lupin!_

Zenigata awoke to the sound of indifferent birds beating their wings and chirping in the sunlight. She waded through the trash, flies, ants, and roaches to the only thing in her apartment spared from her--well, evident neglect of the place. The jutte, artfully crafted according to the custom of the old days, lay dusty but unsullied on the cloth that draped the raised platform that managed to remain unburied with the mess. That didn't happen by accident. Despite her madness, Zenigata had retained that inextinguishable sense of duty..not only to the public but to her ancestor, and thus she kept the waste from reaching the sacred spot where she kept the jutte.

She prostrated herself in front of her ancestor's weapon.

"I've done everything...to get the bastard...he uses chaos to his advantage...I do a full-scale bombardment and he just plays possum...blockades never've worked, and he sneaks out of my traps more times than I can count! Whathaven'tI..tried yet?" She shot up and her eyes sparked with a sudden illumination. An evil grin upturned the corners of her mouth.

Just like that, forever operating on extremes, she came to her senses from the depths of not having them, rebounding from a low to a high with the abruptness that only a Zenigata could manage.

Zenigata's eyes boiled with the violence of magma threatening to break the earth's surface. The idea unravelled in her mind like a dropped yarn ball and uncoiled its mischievous, deceitful threads. Didn't matter, it was merely a means to an end. She jumped up, clapping her fist into her palm in staunch determination. "Heiji Zenigata, I vow on your name that I'll arrest Lupin the Third! Even at the stake of my dignity! There are no depths to which I won't sink!" Her resolve hardened once more, she crashed through her carpet of junk and insects to execute her scheme, matching Lupin's in its devilishness.

To be continued...

A/N: Oops, things don't fall apart just yet. They fall apart next chapter!


	9. Arrest of Lupin the Third

Legal Stuff: Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her.

Jigen, Lupin, and Goemon belong to Monkey Punch.

Many thanks to GirlWithNoLife for reviewing! No, Toshiko's mom doesn't show up here. : (

And yeah, I have a strange obsession with portraying Zenigata is a thief. The last fic I wrote

I kept him on the right side of the law but it just wasn't as fun. ;

9/15/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

9: Arrest of Lupin the Third...

"You're going where, Lupin?"

Lupin waxed flowery which elicited from Jigen an irritated grunt. Probably a non-verbal retaliation for delaying Lupin who was practically outside the door when Jigen asked him.

"Oh, nowhere special Jigen, just a four-course dinner with Fujiko at GH Nine--and this time you aren't invited--probably because you're such a killjoy!"

"Friggin' Fujiko...ggrrgmmmgrr..."

Lupin's giddy laugh bounced off the wall as he left their hideout, in a noticeably suburban area, walked into his car, waxed for this occasion, and drove off into the night. "So, what does your friggin' shadow of death say?"

"..It is about time. You have finally surrendered to the wisdom of the ancient ways."

"Hell no, Goemon--but my feet are itchin'. Somethin's 'gotta be up. Always a wild card in the pack when breasts and thighs're involved."

"Mm."

--

"I'm so glad you could make it, lover."

The renowned femme fatale's velvet voice and the scent of her light, but strategically applied perfume entranced Lupin as he speared a chunk of filet mignon sprinkled with a light wine and ate it. His gaze alternated between eyes and cleavage--the latter which was framed with a sparkling purple amethyst that glowed radiant in the low light of the GH Nine club, a high-end bar and restaurant.

"Well, since I figured I was in the neighborhood--I thought I'd take a little detour from Paris and stop into Tokyo while I had the chance."

Fujiko's cheeks were a little flush from her own wine--Pinot--and she leaned her ballooning breasts over her dish.

"Oh, Lupin, you came all this way for me...?" She took her hand, flawlessly manicured and painted with a delicate pink hue, and gently stroked her partner's lower jaw. Lupin fought the urge to drool in elation and accepted her caress in a way that halfway resembled a gentleman. Of course, the lust barely masked by his veneer of civility was on the verge of exploding. "You shouldn't have." She leaned her inviting crimson lips to his, about to steal a kiss in the midst of the indifferent patrons and the strumming of the jazz band. A heavy-set pianist poured his misery into the piano. The bar was thick with activity, with people, lively, talking, but barely noticing one another. At the moment before Lupin and Fujiko's lips made contact, a lower, harsher--not velvet--more like--sandpaper--voice raped his ears. "You _really _shouldn't have."

"Wh--wha?"

Lupin's rounded eyes snapped open and made two frantic olives as Fujiko burst into a round of lusty, but in no way the kind he was expecting--laughter. "Y-you've got to be yankin' me! Inspector Zenigata?!" "Fujiko" ripped off her mask to reveal the triumphant, smirking face of the Inspector. She cuffed her prisoner by the wrists, again by the feet, and to finish the job, pulled out a bottle. Lupin might have been caught unawares, but his shocked expression quickly became his usual one of cool smugness. "I gotta admit, you really had me this time, Toshiko!" Lupin readied to spring his eternal plan X that he always had at hand just for sticky situations like that. But Zenigata didn't give him the chance. She immediately unleashed a chemical on her prisoner, which in an instant paralyzed him. Lupin couldn't even blink--much less escape--as every muscle, joint, and nerve froze, and he sat there, absolutely immobile and probably mentally cursing up a storm. Shining with triumph, Zenigata hefted up the thief, gave a grinny "It's okay folks, nothing to see here" to the bewildered pianist and the clientele who had stopped eating and had looked over to see what all the fuss was about, and then marched on cloud nine towards the station with her prey leaning incapacitated on her shoulder.

--

Zenigata brought the world's most wanted before the chief himself. She stood erect, back in her usual clothes, but her hat fixed-up, clean, not a splotch of dirt or mud on her, not a crease in her trenchcoat. The model of righteousness. Strict regulation, play by the rules. Lupin, bound and still completely paralyzed save for his eyes that blinked open and closed in a who, me? way that wasn't entirely fabricated as he sat--since he couldn't really stand in his slightly embarassing condition--I mean, what kind of idiot would fall for that ploy? Him, apparently.

The Inspector greeted the chief with a crisp salute.

"Sir, I have apprehended Lupin the Third!!"

"Good job, Inspector. I commend you." He motioned blankly to two armed officers at either side of his office door. The euphoria of success blinded her to the fact that the officers were even there--and they weren't a regular feature of the commissioner's office. "You're under arrest for grand larceny."

"Wh--what? What's the meaning of this, sir?!" Zenigata barked a panicked and confused reply as the two officers quickly made their presence known and took custody of her. Neither of them offered her any kind of hint as to what the hell was going on. They took her emotionlessly by the hand and Zenigata saw them take out handcuffs.._for her. _Her mind whirled in frantic confusion and she burst out loud and fretting, sweat collecting at the base of her brow and clinging to her temples. "I don't understand, sir--I haven't done anything!" she protested, her gaze darting back and forth between the chief and the officers. The impartial click of the steel ring hit her flesh.

The Inspector felt a bite of rising dread. The chief eyed her like he would any other criminal--with stern disapproval.

"We have reason to believe that you assisted Lupin the Third in stealing the Pearl Ruby. We have evidence that you were there at the time and scene of the crime and that you did nothing to stop the theft of an item over 2000000 USD in value."

"Th--that's insane!! Chief, you gotta listen to me!! I'm not guilty..rggghh, get off of me!!" Her flight instinct awakening, Zenigata savagely fought off the officers, in a storm of throwing elbows and lurching against their tightening grip, she whacked her would-be arrestors with the other unattached handcuff. The unexpected force formed a mean bruise along his his cheekbone. With a wild effort she wrenched free of their grip, and they moved to restrain her again, the chief's only disheartening answer one of silent approval.

"Alright, miss, that's enough, or we'll charge you with resisting arrest."

She quickly realized that the only one she could remotely call her friend at this point was her passive prisoner still immobile and bound on the floor.

"She's already resisting--charge her with resisting arrest and assaulting an officer. If you don't come quietly we'll have to use more forceful methods of persuasion."

Zenigata filled with righteous indignation but quickly stifled any further outburst. She quickly realized the odds were against her.

_I don't know why I'm under arrest...and I sure as hell am not guilty. I could fight it out here...get tasered or clubbed into submission...no, if either way I'm gonna end up in a cell, I'd better not be fucking unconscious. Maybe that way I'll be able to_

_Escape_

The very thought twisted her stomach. If it came to that...No, she could just go to trial, right? She would be acquitted, no doubt about it. The law was benevolent to the innocent. This arrest was all a big mistake...a misunderstanding. "I give up!" Zenigata raised her hands, the free cuff that hadn't yet found its appendage to bind hanging down to her side. The one officer again laid his hands on Zenigata, and finished cuffing her. The other one took Lupin--who was still in a sitting position, and dragged him out the door. Before they led Zenigata out, still hot with rage at the injustice but refusing to physically resist anymore lest that get her deeper into completely unjustified trouble--she threw her head over her shoulder and yelled to the chief, "Sir, I'm begging you, listen to me! I'm innocent!"

An uncomfortable silence prefaced the commissioner's next words.

"Innocent? Don't be ridiculous...Ganimard."

At that damned name she flared up one last time, waging the final struggle to her fellow officers to prove that she had renounced her father's true name forever.

"Ganimard?! My name's Toshiko Zenigata!!"

The chief's ponderous, now-sinister frame was unmoved.

"Do you think that changing a name can change a man? Your father didn't change and neither will you. You already made your intention clear of joining the family business. In fact, we will be adding impersonation of a police officer to the list of charges," the chief decided with finality. "And I'll prove it. Yamato, search her."

The faceless arresting officer obeyed, ordered Zenigata to put her hands behind her head, and patted her down--if there was any consolation in any of this it was that he didn't take advantage of the situation. He found an object lodged in her pocket and drew it out for her to see.

The amethyst.

"That's stolen property alright, sir. All of the merchandise was returned to the jewelry store one year ago. Except this one."

The accusing jewel shone cheerily, mockingly in her face, now drenched with sweat.

"Anything else you have to say, Ganimard?"

Zenigata stared at the floor in shame that bit into her like acid. At every battle with her latent criminal self she had triumphed--she had gone after Lupin the Third and until recently his associates without fail, at any time of night, on any amount of sleep. During the Pearl Ruby incident the only reason that the Inspector hadn't done anything to stop Lupin was that his gang had set out a twenty-meter wide mat of chewed bubble gum. Sure, she had to practically dunk her head in peanut butter to settle that mess, but on that charge she was innocent--and at every moment it became increasingly clear that they wanted her out of the picture, that was sure. The amethyst--proved to be the one fatal time that her thievish curiosity had vanquished her. --_They're not going to put that on the rap sheet--no, it's too insignificant value-wise. Instead they're sticking me with grand larceny and other charges that they can tack on because of my unsure status thanks to Ganimard. How fucking legal of them. _

But it was true. She had kept the jewel. She had broken that much of the law.

The commissioner's expression remained fixed as one of grave blankness, but under the surface, veiled satisfaction. The second Ganimard finally exposed for what she was and in custody. They could easily turn petty theft into a crime that carried a far harsher punishment. They had done it before with the first Ganimard, before he finally got the hint that they had no need for him and after his final arrest returned to his old profession. There was no room for ambiguity in the Tokyo division of Interpol. And after twenty years he had finally purged the troublemakers from the agency. That done, he poured himself a congratulatory glass of wine.

Twenty meters below the chief's fat frame, Zenigata, now behind a row of criss-crossed metal bars, drilled a bitter, disillusioned gaze at her betrayers. Not abating her poisonous mood, across from her, her now-fellow prisoner forced the lines of his mouth into an inexplicable grin...

To be continued...

--

A/N: Chapter 10, the final chapter! Zenigata's fate!


	10. Suicide

Legal Stuff: Toshiko belongs to whoever came up with her.

Lupin, Jigen, Goemon, and Fujiko belong to Monkey Punch.

Thanks to GirlWithNoLife for the review! Unfortunately, I'm not good

at writing romance--ideally, she would end up with Lupin's son or grandson XD

But that will have to be a different story. This is the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy.

9/15/08

Spitting on the Grave

by Blue9Tiger

10: Suicide

"What the hell, you bastard--I see you smilin' over there--think it's funny, don't you?"

Lupin went on grinning--she wasn't sure if the joker was really laughing at her or if his expression simply froze that way. "You shut the fuck up!" Zenigata barked, earning her an echo of her demand from another prisoner aimed at her. She became a snarling row of teeth in response to the one that was giving her mouth, foam massing in a white sheet from between her molars, some of it dribbling down and landing on the greasy, sticky cell floor. Her still-silent audience still had that clownish smile slapped on his white face. She grew more pissed--as if that could happen at this point in what was decidedly the worst day of her career...

Her career.

Struggling to hear herself think amidst the chaotic shouting, singing, and general din of the criminals, she banished any further idea of an inner monologue. "No...it can't be over! They'll bring me to trial, I'll get acquitted 'cause there's no real evidence!!"

Lupin, who somehow could hear Zenigata's hushed voice over the thunderous background noise managed to shake his head twice in the space of a minute. That painfully slow reaction elicited an ugly noise from Zenigata, who ran and slammed into the bars. "What're you shaking your head for?! That's the only charge, right?!"

The thief didn't bother trying to shake his head this time and instead counted on his fingers. Thirty seconds. The chemical was finally wearing off. One. Resisting arrest. Two. Assault. Three. Impersonating a police officer. "B--but--that's ridiculous!!" Zenigata at once angrily and gloomily protested. Lupin formed his fingers into a rough outline of the jewel, the only true nail in her coffin. "What the hell is that?" Lupin did a charade of sparkly with his hands. "Oh, I get it now. Yeah..." She sunk down onto the floor, staring at her knees that she turned inward in dejection. "I'm a crook. Not nearly as incorrigible as you five, though, don't get me wrong," she snarled out the window at Lupin's widening smile that took up half of his face. "No, that was just petty theft. Yeah, I'm--" Her sad look turned into a glower. "What're you smiling like that for?!" She leaped to her feet and slammed her body against the bars, her rage canceling out whatever physical pain that that action inevitably caused. "There's no way...if you think that I'm joining you, you're dead wrong!! I'm gonna clear my name!! Once I clear this up I'll be after your asses again! You hear me?!"

Lupin waved genially, as if to say "Loud and clear".

_You know what they say, Toshi, denial's the first stage of acceptance! Heeheheehheeeh!_

--

It was now three weeks since Zenigata's arrest. Her trial date was set and they told her she was looking at about twenty-five years.

The Inspector sat on her bunk, considerably in a bleaker mood. Lupin had regained his full faculties and waited for her answer either way, but not without dispensing grains of wisdom from the other cell that mainly accomplished the feat of raising her fury against him. The fact that he was usually right about things didn't help, either.

"If were you right now--first, that would make your really horny and me a fun nazi and a tightass!"

"..."

Lupin pouted at the joke that fell flat and flipped 180 degrees and assumed a tone of complete seriouness.

"But I can't force you into it. It's kind of like vampirism, you know?"

Zenigata looked up, in those few weeks aged considerably, the thought of losing _twenty-five years _of her life--that had been dedicated solely to the law--in a pit where she had sent countless criminals--now, as she was being labelled, criminals like her. Whether she would survive or not it didn't really matter. Her honor had been wrenched violently from her, and what remained of it would be destroyed in the penitentiary. Sure, she could expiate her petty theft for that--what seemed like a lifetime--in prison--maybe get paroled, maybe get out on good behavior. Like an honest citizen. A reformed citizen. "A used tissue for your thoughts?" Lupin held out said used tissue with a smile.

By now, Lupin's seemingly idle chatter on one level irritated her but at the same time...in some twisted, crazy way--made her happy. Ill at ease and comforted at the same time. _It's fucking stupid...but he's got a heart. He's been looking out for me when he can fucking walk out of here anytime he likes. Maybe...Dad's right. Lupin isn't so bad. _

For the first time since she had disowned Ganimard two years ago, she acknowledged her father.

"Where's...my old man?" Zenigata asked, the sound of her own voice hoarse and crackling from her prolonged silence. Lupin shifted on his bunk, bounced off of it with a sproing--even though it wasn't a particularly sproingy bed, walked to the front of the cell. The other criminals--several who had already been taken for transport and leaving it a hell of a lot quieter for the time being, either were catching sleep or had passed out. A lonely buzz of the electric light that illuminated the detention block remained the only background noise--that and a couple of foghorn-loud snoring coming from fat guys covered in tattoos.

"Yep, surprise, surprise!" Lupin replied to Zenigata's refreshed irritation. "Toshiko Zenigata isn't a test-tube baby, or popped out of a rock of Righteousness, or something like that!"

"That didn't answer my goddamn question!!"

"I was making a point," Lupin levelled his answer with unusual gravity. "Look, I'm not gonna tell you what you're gonna do. All I'm saying is that you've got roots and they're not 'gonna go away. It's like an itch on your asscheeks that you really need to scratch but it's always there!"

"...Yeah, I'm a visual learner too," Zenigata answered dryly. She rolled her eyes. "I didn't need you to tell me that, Lupin. I may be a Zenigata, but I'm..." She swallowed at the decadent French name that nearly got stuck in her throat. "...a Ganimard, too. But there can't be two names. After tonight, one of 'em's gonna die." She left the one who would perish deliberately ambiguous, which piqued Lupin's curiosity. But he wasn't going to get any satisfaction now, because the Inspector persisted with her first inquiry. "Where's my old man?"

Lupin pressed his cheeks against the bars,scanned the corridor, and flashed an impossibly wide grin. He pointed with his oval head at a group of four uniformed police officers who approached the cells. The only one with short hair strode to Zenigata's cell and shiftily grasped a set of keys. The Inspector immediately identified the police as fakes and the keys as stolen in her usual talk-shout--but lowered it to a whisper-- and raised her lowered head to meet the gaze of her long-estranged father.

"Dad." The three-syllable address came out with far more difficulty in her native tonuge than the foreign name. She struggled to pronounce it, clenching and unclenching her fists around the bars, lines crowding her head as her frustration mounted. Yet however awkward it was, Ganimard's gentle smile indicated that it was well-appreciated. He--after his habit, grabbed the bars from the outside and looked in. His eyes watered and one could mistake him for a giant puppy.

"Toshiko..ya alright, hun?"

Any mention of "I told you so" would've been superfluous and rather asshole-ish, and he refrained from doing so right now. Maybe later, when they could look back on it in retrospect, laugh about it...

That is, if...

Zenigata answered with a defiant "heh".

"I'm fine, Pop."

Ganimard sweated in relief, stopped, grinned with his characteristic smugness, and put the key into the heavy lock.

"Now listen, Toshiko, before you protest, what you do after this is up to you, but I'm not letting you stay here a minute more, got it?"

"Believe me, if this was the only other time I'd break the law, I'd do it again."

Ganimard grunted in affirmation--The four "officers" in those moments shared more or less the same want, though none of them dared tell Zenigata. The cell door unlocked. Toshiko darted out through the opening and emerged a free fugitive. The faces of Lupin's gang all stood in uncertain shadow underneath their caps. Jigen bit his tongue in anticipation..on the surface cool and stony as usual, but underneath that he prepared himself to get the hell out of there if Zenigata still called herself a cop. Goemon, the same, this time absolutely ready to show their would-be captor the second favorite end of his sword. Fujiko couldn't help but chuckle in amusement at how familiar the whole scene looked, and casually hoped that she would say yes--turn an enemy into a friend, why not? Lupin, who had long since let himself out of the cell and stretched and cracked the rusty bones in his neck, arms, and pretty much everywhere else, no longer awaited with silent patience. Their objective accomplished, the gang vanished, mist in the purple night.

Epliogue

"...Zenigata Toshiko was found dead this morning in her cell. An autopsy was performed...The coroner has declared it a suicide..."

The news reporter droned on and on about something that he knew absolutely nothing about, but that was fine--_let 'em think that way._ All the more easy it was to work. She had been drifting in and out, anyway--that person was someone else, another life, another her that was no longer her. To shed herself had been hard at first--self-doubt, vascillating, wavering between the doctrines that had been drilled into her all her life and this new way of life in which everything was inverted and you practically had to stand on your head to see anything clearly...

The distant burglar alarm rang its piercing message that had diffused with distance between Eugene and Toshiko and the museum. Lupin and the rest had carried off another artwork that required four heads. The other pair of thieves dashed up a rolling hill, dragging the ruby-studded idols that were now absent from the temple exhibit across the terrain to the rendez-vous point. Toshiko sweated from the exertion--they had hauled ass a good two kilometers with the statues in tow. Breathing hard they set their prize down near a cemetery and stopped to catch their breath. Toshiko leaned against a tree to regain her air and by chance, she looked up at one of the stones...

ornate by comparison with the unmarked graves around it, but modest next to with graves of grandees in the shadow of which it stood.

"Whatcha find there, Toshi?" Eugene's gruff tenor broke the silence of the placid hill.

"It's..Heiji Zenigata's grave," Toshiko stated evenly. The irony was in no way lost on either of them.

"So..'s that gonna give you an epiphany or something? 'Gonna go straight?" Eugene asked with complete seriousness.

Toshiko returned her father's gravity, and with the utmost solemnity she rummaged through her sack, reached for one of the smaller idols, deliberated, and finally decided on a medium-sized one with a diamond fixed in its belly. Eugene at first gave her and the removed idol a clueless stare, but the corners of his wrinkled mouth turned violently up in a malicious, rebellious grin. Now that it became clear what she was doing, the seriousness of the ceremony was a sham, the somber mood a mockery of Heiji Zenigata's once-untainted legacy.Toshiko--her false straight face giving way to a subversive chuckle, hurriedly took the stolen idol and planted the fruits of her dishonest labor in front of their incorruptible ancestor's grave, before they darted off to the the rendezvous point, where vice and irreverence coalesced in the shimmering constellation of the shiny things that drove the six thieves to make the world their carnival.

END

A/N: Whew, that's it! Thanks for reading! I can't remember if the Japanese buried their dead in more ancient times. Oops. ;


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